Gaiman’s world of Faerie was full of imaginative creatures and locales, but most of them are skimmed across in a paragraph. Too much of the book is a summary of Tristran’s journey through Faerie, and it’s not just the non-essential bits of Tristran’s travels, but even his budding love affair is summarized. The only reason we get for the two falling in love is that they spend a lot of time together. (I don’t consider that a spoiler because it should be obvious that the two will end up together from the beginning, which is the only reason I even bought it as plausible.)

The ending was dull. I didn’t expect explosions, but everything is resolved way too conveniently to satisfy. A lot of the story feels too convenient, such as how Tristran is able to get to the star so quickly. It doesn’t feel natural, and I can’t help but wonder why powerful witches would lack such magic.

Two hundred pages is not enough for the story. It feels rushed and compressed, and the summaries of what happens makes it difficult to give a damn about the characters. The more I think about the book, the less I like it.

There are much better fantasy books out there. I hear the movie is better though.

My Final Score: Under 9,000

I forgot what little I read before, so all I know about it is that involve fairies but will feel much different than the YA novels I usually read. As much as I enjoy them, some of them are too formulaic. It’s good to vary my diet, even if only slightly.

Everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by merchants and spammers. Even my friends now send text messages trying to entice me to buy overpriced Cutco (which apparently is not a subsidiary of Edgecom) knives from Vector Marketing. It reeks of desperation when they feign enthusiasm over cutlery when they don’t even cook.

Everybody needs to make money, but why do they always have to make money on crap nobody wants or needs? I don’t need jewelry or t- shirts I’ll never wear, and why would I pay hundreds of dollars for knives that aren’t even the best? I’d pay money to see a performance though. I’d lay down a Hamilton for a chapbook. I’d open my wallet to see a symphony. I just want a memorable experience.

I accept that life is a freemium game that nickel-and-dimes you, but I wish it sold more art and less crap.

The Replacement by Brenna Yovanoff is a young adult novel about a changeling, a creature who is placed in the crib of a child much like a cuckoo bird’s egg, and his struggle to live a normal life in a town with a secret that everybody knows but nobody acknowledges, but it’s not so easy when the iron in the city and in the blood of his peers hurts him. When a friend’s sister is kidnapped and replaced with a changeling, he is forced to deal with the underworld from which he came. However, he does so very reluctantly.

Mackie, the changeling protagonist, is a selfish individual, choosing self-preservation over all else. The only exception is his sister. It’s frustrating to watch him brush away the questions of Tate, the sister of the missing girl, and play along with the town’s naivety. The cowardice fit his character, but I’d have preferred he grow a pair sooner. Despite his self-interest, he’s not an unlikable or unrealistic character. Most people would choose self-preservation. I enjoyed the rest of the characters as well and never felt as if any were a Mary Sue or Gary Stu, which is too often the case in novels written for teenagers and young adults.

The story flows at a good pace, which is appreciated considering that it’s almost 350 pages. None of the scenes felt like filler and no action contrived or forced. Although I question how a teenage girl could fight a dreaded demonic creature and survive, the direction the story took all the way to the end was natural. There is romance, but it’s atypical–nobody is too perfect–and it’s not the crux of the book. There was a scene that felt too explicit, especially since the characters were teenagers, but it did not last very long. There are gritty details of the town, its underworld, and the happenings that occur in the shadows, so keep in mind that it is a dark novel that deals with some mature themes.

I loved the book enough to finish it in a single session. The story is wonderful, the characters are enjoyable, and the theme of a town that smiles away the harsh realities that live right beneath them connected with me. How often do entire communities fake it and deny what really occurs in their own neighborhood? They don’t even have the excuse of demonic creatures! I saw myself in Mackie, playing along because I didn’t want to be singled out even though everybody knew I was different and weird. That is probably why I enjoyed it so much, but even if you don’t empathize with him, you’ll enjoy this book if you enjoy urban fantasy.

My Final Score: Over 9,000

A slave to the world
or a king of a stranded island
is a pauper either way. But,
in solitude, one has room
to grow. In society, forever
in the stranglehold of another’s
whim. Forever on prostrate knees
waiting to be clothed, sheltered, fed.

Sometimes, the house must be burnt,
the soil overturned, cemented.
Sand is shaky foundation,
rock is better, but steel is best.
Not even nature can shake it.
Though the world will quake
to stumble you back into place,
the world is beneath you, tucked away. Safe.

I tried to play the patient sacrifice-
indulged you in all your deficiencies
a faithful thrall, but your appetite rises
with every mercy. Nothing would suffice.
Even after my demise, you won’t cease.
My only choice-to leave you in your vices.

If you rise from the dead and see the light
Call me again, and I’ll go out with you that night.

Tried walking water but I drowned,
so I took to the skies a fay.
each day I spend much higher
I won’t trip over the waves.

Ride the whirlwind, ride the tide
Whether it ebbs or flows.
Forget where I came from.
Push forward where I go.

[Happy New Year! -Angel]

Stop being a nerd. Indulging in controversial topics on the Internet is pointless. As Dharma Montgomery once said, “If you wrestle a pig, you only get dirty, and the pig has all the fun.”

Become a real yogimon master. I’d also like better abs.

Eat like a fey. Not Tina Fey, but a fairy. In other words, be a Super Vegan. When it comes to soda, drink only Sprite like Laurel Sewell did on Wings. Not the old USA sitcom, but the paranormal romance by Aprilynne Pike. Sierra Mist is, to quote Hayley Williams of Paramore, “the only exception.”

Work life like a burlesque show. For an introvert, society is best approached as a piece of performance art; I also don’t stutter in performances. Like any play, it should not exceed three or four hours.

Live life like a video game. Treat every circumstance and event as if it has purpose. If I see a tornado carrying a car, assume God’s in that tornado and he’s aiming that car right at me.

Raise the tide of the Sea and flood the shores unceasingly. Self-explanatory.

Go! As Gwen Stefani once asked, “What you waiting for?” To quote GaGa, “I am a fucking lion and I cannot be destroyed.” As Sonic says, “If you have time to worry, then run.”

Oops… Almost forgot. Accept every challenge. Hyah!

The half-hour shower–a refuge
from the grease of moonlight work
and the hours wasted on her.
I’d drown my aches beneath this rain
all day, but her debts demand to be paid
and it’s way past midnight.

Out of the shower and into the steam
chilled with the breeze whispering
through the moldy window she hasn’t cleaned.
The fog conceals nothing; everything
in the dirty towel hamper is mine,
and her toothbrush is still dry.

She’s already in bed with an arm
around my phantom shape, a smile
sculpted on her face like those
I had when I embraced her phantom touch
in my lame high school poetry,
dressing her in jewels and royalty.

Her eyes are not emeralds, but definitely stoned,
her hair is a crown, but the gold has chipped off,
her voice is a violin that hasn’t been tuned,
her face was my sun, but now it’s the moon.
Even her majestic peaks lose luster once scaled-
She’s flat without all the symbolism.

Dull eyes open, catch my stare.
“Whatcha doing?” she asks.
“Just admiring your beauty,” I reply.
She leans forward with her lips; I tense
but eventually submit. We shut our eyes,
and I rest in peace in holy matrimony.